


missing

by jayeinacross



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, M/M, past canonical character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:13:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24472579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jayeinacross/pseuds/jayeinacross
Summary: "You cut your hair," Sylvain says."Is that what you came here to say?" The key finally turns, but Sylvain presses his hand against the door before Felix can open it."Five years, Felix," he says, his voice light. "You're not even going to invite me in?"A Pacific Rim AU. Five years ago, Felix quit the Jaeger program. Now, Sylvain is trying to bring him back.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 5
Kudos: 64





	missing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bitterheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitterheart/gifts).



> Happy birthday to Kii, who became my co-pilot seven years ago. Thanks for always being here, even when I disappear for a while. See you in the Drift.

It's well past dark by the time Felix gets back to his flat, but the city is always awake, especially in this part of town. He's used to pushing his way through the narrow, crowded streets, and usually the look in his eye and the cuts and bruises on his face are enough to convince most people he passes to leave him be without comment. It's been a long night, and all he wants to do is get home and collapse into sleep. He moves briskly, splashing through puddles on the ground, always looking straight ahead and avoiding eye contact. He makes it all the way to the door of his building before something manages to make him stop.

"Felix." It's a voice he hasn't heard in years, but one he could never mistake. Sylvain steps into his view, out of the shadows where he's apparently been lurking. "Huh. It's really you. I wasn't even sure I'd actually found you, it's been so long."

Caught off guard, Felix can't think of anything to say, so he says nothing, just shoves his key into the front door. He grits his teeth as it sticks, resisting as he tries to twist it, and he tries not to look flustered. He hadn't expected this tonight, but when does anyone ever expect their past to drag itself up out of nowhere?

"You cut your hair," Sylvain says.

"Is that what you came here to say?" The key finally turns, but Sylvain presses his hand against the door before Felix can open it.

"Five years, Felix," he says, his voice light. "You're not even going to invite me in?"

Felix doesn't, wrenching the door open, but neither does he stop Sylvain following him up the creaking stairs of his building. As Felix opens the door to his room and strips off his jacket, Sylvain stays mercifully silent, looking around the flat. There's not much to look at; walls stripped and peeling, no decoration, and barely any furniture. There's nothing to give away what Felix's life really looks like now, but at the same time it says everything that there is to know.

After a few minutes of watching Felix put away the clothes and books and empty takeout containers that are strewn around the place, refusing to talk first, Sylvain sits himself down at the tiny table that Felix eats at and drums his fingers on its cold, plastic surface. "You have coffee?"

"It's almost midnight."

"It's your fault for taking so long to come home," Sylvain says. His hair is damp, still wet from the rain earlier in the evening. "I've been waiting for ages."

"Fine."

Sylvain waits while Felix fixes it for him, smiling when he places the mug down in front of him. Felix moves to lean against the kitchen counter across from Sylvain. It's not the carefree smile that Felix remembers from when they were kids, and it's not the one that Sylvain used to throw at him sometimes when they were suited up and just about to drop into their Jaeger, either. That one was sometimes grim and sometimes strained but always said _I've got you._

This smile is familiar enough for Felix to recognise, but he's not used to it being directed at him. It's the fake one that Felix used to see him use with reporters, cameras, and with his father, nodding along to questions and orders, resentment bubbling underneath the mask but always contained in front of everyone else. Felix could always see through it, back then, wondered how nobody else could notice something so obvious — but maybe that's because he always got to see the aftermath too, how Sylvain would vent out his frustration at the world at night, behind the closed door of their bunk. It's not a privilege Felix has anymore.

Sylvain takes a sip of his coffee, making a face when the bitterness hits his tongue, but he doesn't comment on it. Instead, he says, "I've missed you."

"That can't be the only reason you're here," Felix says, crossing his arms, his chest tight.

"Why not?" Sylvain shakes his head and lets out a short, harsh laugh. "It would have been, if I'd been able to find you before now. But you're right, of course. I guess there's no tiptoeing around it with you. The program wants you back."

Felix blinks. "How ridiculous. On whose orders?"

"Does it matter? Ashe says the events are getting more frequent, and the Kaiju are stronger every time a new one shows up. They're trying to shut the Jaeger program down. This is our last chance to end this for good. But we need you back."

It must be true, about the Kaiju, and the program; it's not the kind of thing that Sylvain would lie about, but the way he says it makes him sound like an unwilling soldier, sent to fetch something he doesn't want to bring back.

That's not a problem. Felix isn't going.

"No," he says.

"If you thought things were bad before, you have no idea how much worse it's about to get. For everyone, not just Rangers." Sylvain gestures around to the dim, ramshackle room, his face neutral. "Are you really gonna spend your life like this when you could be out there fighting?"

"I'm done with the PPCD. What more do you want me to say?"

Sylvain slams the mug down onto the table, some of the black coffee spilling over the sides. The mask drops in an instant, giving way to something that Felix is much more used to seeing directed towards him. His anger, at least, is honest. "I don't know, maybe that you're sorry?"

Felix presses his lips together and stays silent.

"I get it, Felix. I know you were hurting, so I get why you left. But you should have said something. To me. Your partner."

Felix clenches his hands into fists, nails digging into his skin; he _knows_ that, but it's done now. Of all the things Felix had left behind, Sylvain's the one that he gets the closest to regretting, but that doesn't change what he did. He lives with his choice, he has for the past five years. After all this time, the thought of feeling someone in his head again, of someone seeing everything that's in there, makes him feel dizzy and sick. He turns away, ready to walk to the door and make Sylvain leave by force if necessary, but Sylvain pushes his chair back and stands up, catching Felix's wrist in his hand.

"I looked for you," Sylain said.

"Well, I didn't want to be found, and I don't want to go back." Felix tries to yank his arm away, but Sylvain's eyes are flashing and his grip is firm. "Why don't you just give up already?"

"I wish you'd have let me be there for you," Sylvain says quietly. "Why didn't you let me?"

Felix doesn't know how Sylvain can stand in front of him with that sad, soft look in his eyes when he was so cold and angry just moments before. He must hate Felix, after everything that's happened, so why is he _looking_ at him like that? Sylvain's fingers feel tight and hot around his wrist, the feeling too familiar and too strange all at once, burning into his skin and making him remember too much. He's weak for Sylvain and Sylvain alone, always has been. The simple touch is overwhelming, and Felix needs it to stop.

"You don't need me, Sylvain. You're so compatible that you can Drift with just about anyone, right? So go make your father proud and pair up with someone else."

"Ah." Sylvain smiles again, bitterly this time, and lets go. "You always did know what works best on me. I'll see you later, Felix. Hopefully by then you'll have stopped spouting bullshit I know you don't mean."

He doesn't wait for a response, just storms out of the flat, shutting the door behind him with a resounding bang.

Angrily, Felix mops up the spill on the table and tosses the mug into the sink, where it clatters against the metal and leaks the remainder of Sylvain's cold coffee down the drain. Guilt surges through him but he pushes it aside; Sylvain shouldn't have expected any less from Felix. They're not kids anymore, bickering and squabbling over nothing and making up in an instant, and they're not in trainees in the Academy, always goading and pushing each other for the sake of getting stronger. Felix isn't a Ranger anymore, always by Sylvain's side, never a step out of sync.

He knows it doesn't matter who Sylvain has Drifted with since he left. In the end, it's work, it's orders, it's his duty. Co-pilots make a connection, of course; that's a requirement of the Drift, that's just how it works. But he and Sylvain were always more than comrades, or friends, or brothers. Even if they never said it out loud, never acted on it, they both knew — how could they not? But that was five years ago, and Felix doesn't understand why Sylvain would even want to come back for him now. Things are too different, since he left. Since Glenn.

Felix lies awake for what feels like hours, despite being bone-tired, praying for the escape of sleep. But when it finally comes, it's restless, and his dreams are the grey of memories in the Drift, streaked with blue and orange-red.

* * *

The next night, Sylvain is waiting for him again. He's leaning against the brick wall, jacket zipped up to his chin, braced against the cold, and he looks up when he hears Felix's footsteps.

"Finally," he says. "You kept me waiting a long time again."

"I didn't think you'd actually come back."

"I said I would, didn't I?" When Felix takes his keys out of his pocket, Sylvain interrupts him, stepping forward. "Ah, not yet — I'm taking you out for dinner."

"What?"

"You owe me for disappearing on me." Sylvain's face is hard to read, his smile on the verge of something genuine.

"That's what you said yesterday."

"And it's still true today. I'll even treat you, so stop complaining and just come with me."

Felix laughs, short and sharp. "I owe you, but you'll treat me? What is this?"

"I have to try everything, you know. The fate of the world could depend on it." Sylvain is different tonight; not as cold, even as he jabs at Felix, which only makes it all the more confusing.

"It's late, nothing's going to be open," Felix says, but he doesn't move to unlock the door. It's his guilt over what he said last night, he tells himself, that's why he's not going upstairs and trying to get the sleep he so desperately needs.

"In this city? I'm sure we'll find something."

There's a tiny hole in the wall just a few blocks away that Felix has never seen before but Sylvain somehow manages to spot as they pass by. There aren't many people around at this hour, but the kitchen is still running and the food smells good enough, probably better than whatever rations they feed them at the PPCD these days. Sylvain picks a table in the corner even though there are no other customers, and they sit across from each other and wait for their orders to arrive. The table is small, bringing them uncomfortably close; there's not really anywhere else to look except Sylvain's eyes, which are studying Felix intensely, so Felix looks back.

Last night his apartment had dim, and he hadn't taken the time to really look at Sylvain properly. His face is more mature now, as expected, and his hair a little shorter. He looks as exhausted as Felix feels, probably more. That's what piloting a Jaeger does to you, after all. Felix has seen what a strain on the body it is, in the first generation of Rangers: their fathers. They'd always known what they had to look forward to when they got older, but it had never really seemed to matter, since getting older was contingent on the world surviving the Kaiju anyway.

Sylvain's eyes are tired, not as a bright as they used to be, but they're not cold like they were last night. The anger and frustration have faded into something quieter, something more like what Felix remembers when Sylvain used to look at him, but with more hurt behind it.

"I used to wonder sometimes what you'd be like as a civilian," Sylvain says, and reaches out suddenly to touch the bruise on Felix's cheekbone. Felix recoils away from his causal touch and Sylvain drops his hand back down by his side. "I knew you'd always still end up getting in fights. Guess it's just with smaller monsters now. But the better and bigger ones are still out there."

The owner comes and puts their food down in front of them then, bowls steaming between them on the table. Sylvain starts shovelling noodles into his mouth, but he doesn't let it save Felix from having to answer, giving him an expectant look.

"I've been out for too long," Felix says, snapping his chopsticks apart. "Wouldn't be of much use to anyone out there."

Sylvain swallows and scoffs at that. "Looks to me like you've been keeping in shape."

Felix scowls and starts eating, trying to pretend like the heat rising in his face is because of the spiciness of the broth.

"Seriously, do you want to spend the rest of your — possibly very short, the way things are going — life beating up lowlifes for money?" When Felix glares at him, Sylvain shrugs and says, "I'm not saying it doesn't suit you, I actually think you look pretty good all messed up. But I know you can do more. Wouldn't you rather be out there protecting the people who actually deserve it?"

"Sure. But that's not why I left the PPCD."

"I get it, Felix. We were both born into the program. You think it didn't tear my family apart too?" Sylvain sighs heavily. "Things are different now. No more funding, no more politics. This is the last stand. There's only three Jaegers left, you know."

Felix is quiet for a long moment. "I didn't realise it was that bad."

"Your father wants you to come back. Dimitri, too."

"Is that supposed to convince me?" Felix snorts, then flinches in surprise as Sylvain pushes his bowl aside and grabs his hand.

"If you won't do it for any of them," Sylvain says, "then what about for me?"

Felix stares at him. "You really are trying everything," he mutters.

Smiling wryly, Sylvain says, "This is all I've got left, so go easy on me."

"Like I ever would," Felix retorts, forgetting himself for a moment. It's almost easy to, if he stops thinking about the five years of space between them and focuses on the familiar feeling of Sylvain's hand over his instead. He can't bring himself to pull his hand back, or look away from Sylvain's eyes, warm and intense. Not that he thinks Sylvain would let him if he tried — he has something to say, and it seems he's waited long enough to do it.

"You promised me, Felix," Sylvain says.

"You're a fool for even remembering that."

"Then we're both fools, aren't we?" Sylvain's smiling, but Felix can sense the desperation behind it. "Don't you miss it, Felix? Don't you miss me?"

He clearly knows this is the only thing that might work on Felix, leaning into the years they spent together, ever since they were children, running around the Shatterdome they called home together. Those stretched longer than the five years they've spent apart, after all, and Felix can't forget them, as hard as he's tried to. The memories are etched into his brain, and his body still remembers them, too — every time he fights he feels restless, unsatisfied. No matter how exhausted he is at the end of a job, it never lives up to the hours they used to spend sparring in the Kwoon when they were in the Academy, trading blows back and forth in an endless stream of movement until they could barely stand.

And there's nothing else in the world that even comes close to what it feels like to be inside a Jaeger with Sylvain, every thought running through his mind felt so deeply and wholly, echoed back and forth until he doesn't even know whose it was in the first place.

Of course he misses it.

"Don't you hate me?" Felix asks.

"I thought I did," Sylvain says, "and then I saw you again."

Felix doesn't say anything for a long time, and eventually Sylvain lets go of his hand. He doesn't feel as relieved as he expected at the loss of touch; instead, something tightens uncomfortably in his chest, something he hasn't felt in a long time.

"I have to go back soon. They're not going to wait around for you to come back forever, you know." Sylvain stands up to leave, dropping a few bills onto the table. Neither of them have eaten much, their bowls still mostly full of now-cold food.

"Are you going to be here tomorrow?" Felix asks him.

Sylvain stops. "Maybe. Do you want me to be?"

"I'll see you tomorrow," Felix says, and Sylvain walks out.

* * *

Felix is waiting for Sylvain this time, and he's greeted with a raised eyebrow.

"You're home early," Sylvain says. "I'd booked in three hours of pensively staring down this alleyway, you know. What am I going to do now?" He's being glib, but there's no heart behind it. He sounds tired.

"Just shut up and come inside," Felix says, leading him upstairs.

Felix isn't early, actually — he hadn't gone into work. Instead, after another sleepless night, he'd spent the day listlessly wandering around in his tiny flat, thinking about what he should say to Sylvain. Words have never really been his forte. He hadn't needed them much when he was younger, when roughhousing got his meaning across well enough in most situations. And then, once they'd graduated from the Academy, just feeling something seemed like enough for Sylvain to know what was running through his mind, even outside of the Drift. And if Sylvain understood him, then that was good enough.

Felix remembers remembers a time when they didn't need words, and could easily sit in silence together. It's awkward between them now, the quiet of the room suffocating. Felix doesn't have much in the way of hospitality to offer nor the sensibility for it, so they stand facing each other in the middle of the room. Sylvain doesn't move to sit at the table this time, just waits impatiently for Felix to say something, anything at all.

"I just want an answer," Sylvain says, when Felix stays quiet, and his voice is strained, like he's holding something in.

"I can't sleep because of you," Felix tells him.

"Good. God knows how many nights I've lost thinking about you." Sylvain doesn't smile. "Have been you listening to anything I've said? Are you coming with me? Yes or no, Felix."

"You should know," Felix says, haltingly, "that I'm not the same person anymore. So just because you've been in my head before doesn't mean you understand me now."

"I have always known you, Felix. Since before we ever Drifted." Sylvain's expression darkens, and he turns away, walking to the door. "I'll take that as a no, then."

It's hypocritical, Felix knows. He's the one who left in the first place, and stayed away all these years because he thought it would only make things worse if he went back like nothing had ever happened. But now that Sylvain has strolled back into his life, the thought of watching him walk out again just so that he can rush to his death in a Jaeger next to somebody else makes Felix's skin prickle and his blood rush to his head.

He knows that Sylvain will never leave the Jaeger program as long as it exists; he doesn't know how to do anything else with his life.

"Yes," Felix calls out, before Sylvain can open the door to leave. "I'll go back with you. Yes."

"Felix." Sylvain still has his back to him, and his shoulders are shaking. "You better fucking mean that."

"I mean it," Felix says, and then Sylvain is striding towards him, grabbing Felix by the shoulders, fingers digging into him painfully. "I know you'll go back to fight no matter what, so if you're going to die, at least be by my side when you do."

"That's right," Sylvain says, his voice unsteady.

"But Sylvain, you—it's not going to be the same as it was. Drifting with me. There's things you haven't seen, since the last time. In me."

So many thoughts that ran through Felix's mind when Glenn died, when Dimitri lost his mind, and they would surely horrify anyone who had to witness them, even five years after the fact. He hasn't shared his grief with anyone; even after all this time it's ugly, and savage, and overwhelming. Felix is selfish enough to subject Sylvain to it anyway, and Sylvain is reckless enough not to care.

Sylvain's grip loosens a bit, and he looks down at the floor, hair falling over his eyes. He laughs.

"Is that _funny?"_

Biting his lip, Sylvain meets Felix's baffled gaze, and his eyes are a little wet. "And what exactly do you think you're going to see in my head? How well adjusted I was after your brother died and you left me?"

Felix just stares at him.

"Felix." Sylvain wraps his arms around him, pulling in him close against his body. "Do you have any idea how much I've hated Drifting with anyone but you? They all hated it too, you know. It's pretty humiliating, having someone see exactly how pathetic you are, knowing that you spend every day of your life thinking about someone who left you."

"You're not pathetic," Felix mutters into his chest. He's warm, and Felix lets himself relax into Sylvain's embrace, listening to his heart beating hard and fast under his ear. Sylvain used to hold him like this sometimes, when Felix couldn't settle down after a fight, adrenaline still buzzing through him, making him shake. He clenches his hands in Sylvain's shirt, and wonders how many scars are marking his skin underneath the fabric that Felix has never seen before. He'll find out soon enough, he supposes; Sylvain has waited patiently enough, longer than he should have had to for this.

It's something they've always known — that they loved each other — since before even Drifting together. Felix thinks it was probably back when they were in the Academy, both of them on the fast track to becoming Rangers, determined to pilot together since the very beginning. Despite their conflicts, constant arguments, they had always been inseparable. And with the long hours spent training together, it was only natural that the kind of sparring designed to build physical chemistry would give way to those kinds of feelings, but they didn't fade with time. They only continued to build, but maybe out of stubbornness or fear or both, Felix had never acted on them.

Even after they Drifted for the first time, they didn't speak of it. They didn't need to. Sylvain knew that Felix needed time, and Felix knew that Sylvain would wait.

Felix hadn't really intended to make him wait this long, though.

"I am sorry. For all of it."

"Better late than never," Sylvain sighs, but he's not angry.

"Yeah," Felix says, and pulls back a little so he can look up at Sylvian, who watches him with wide eyes as Felix lets go of his shirt and reaches up to touch his face.

Sylvain grins then, real and warm, and right before Felix yanks his head down and kisses him, he breathes, "You should have done this five years ago."


End file.
